Discordant Note: Crescendo | TBATE

Chapter 238: The Result of War

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Arthur Leywin

After I doused the flames still burning, I had to do several things before I could afford to track the source of this beast horde. I wrote a detailed communication scroll to the Council, informing them of what I'd discovered and what steps I'd be taking next.

Sylvie and I stayed for a short time as we helped the town pull itself into a modicum of order. She hauled bodies from the rubble and healed who she could, while I conjured walls around the town in case more beasts came.

But there was an urgency in my steps and my mind that finally pulled me away. I couldn't wait for reinforcements from the Council to finally reach my location and reinforce these people. I hated to leave them alone, but some gut instinct–some fear I couldn't place–told me I couldn't stay here.

Those mana beasts–corrupted, and even an S-class–had arrived at this town in a concentrated group before tearing it apart. And if there was anything I knew about Agrona from my talk with the horrid psychopath was that he did nothing in half-measures. There was more to this, and I feared to understand what it was.

Sylvie blurred through the air as we followed the lingering distortions in the mana south. They formed an eerily straight line from an indeterminate source far beyond, and traces of the mana beasts' passing were easy to spot if one knew how to look.

They carved a path straight to that town, I thought, wondering why. They didn't stop for water, didn't take any detours that would make it easier. Like drones seeking a target.

Sylvie was uneasy beneath me as she beat her massive wings. We didn't talk of the strange ability of Dawn's Ballad that I'd just discovered, where I gained the ability to influence aether somehow by touching on our bond. I could tell questions about it lurked in the subconscious of her mind, but she was focused on trailing that path our enemies had taken.

I will have to talk to Elder Rinia about it when we get back to the castle, I thought with gritted teeth. The aether-influencing elven seer was infuriatingly vague and shifty about both her abilities and what she saw with her visions, but she was my only real avenue to learn more about the intricacies of my manifested weapon.

After all, the asura had abandoned us. No dragon besides my faithful bond would stand by Dicathen, all because of their failed assault on Alacrya.

I ground my teeth as I focused forward, thoughts of war and whatever Agrona could be planning bouncing around in my skull like an infuriating itch. Eventually, however, my mind drifted toward Spellsong.

The phoenix-blooded mage was the focus of many of my endless questions, especially as my dreams—nightmares—of my past life as Grey continued to return like painful wounds.

I wondered who he was often, even though I knew I wouldn't arrive at the answer I needed. He clearly knew who I was in my previous life, but I couldn't fathom him. Was he a councilmember I'd once known?

Or, I thought with dark humor, was he some unfortunate Trayden soldier I killed? That might make sense, considering he knew so much about Cecilia. About the Legacy.

But that also didn't fully make sense, either. And even if I somehow figured out how he knew so much of my past life, that didn't change that he seemed to know far, far too much about my new one, too.

I remembered a faint voice that seemed to touch my soul. To reverberate with the greatest pull I had ever felt.

"Because your anchors are here, Arthur."